either you leave that pillar alone
or I go out of my way to pull you apart
oh, I know you say it's symbolic
I ask of what, you don't answer
I tap my shoes on the ground
playing undiluted music
boxes of my memories fall on it
I also see your shoes lying about
you stand there bare feet
trying to escape into the concrete
I catch hold of your hand
and you disappear into nowhere
I recall from inner recesses-
I buried you under that pillar
in your yellow shirt
but left your shoes alone
20 comments:
We remember the dead in so many ways.
I see that you have not gotten over me then. Courage!
You always handle the topic of death excellently.
Hello Gautami,
I like the reference to "boxes of my memories ..". So many ways in which we contain our thoughts and experiences.
I like the way you weave the image of shoes throughout. Well done.
Interesting how you weave the story.
I liked this very much Gautami, it is so good - I loved the "boxes of memories fall on it" as well.
I like your image of the person disappearing into the concrete. This makes me think about someone I lost a long time ago. Good write.
"you disappear into nowhere" is such a sad line.
I like the conversational tone and the use of second person.
I tap my shoes on the ground
playing undiluted music
I love the idea of the body making "undiluted music" - the line is really lovely.
I have so many emotions, that I'm not sure I feel anything, thus is the power of you !
wonderful lead up to the final stanza which is finely tuned...
Have seen many car accidents as a reporter. They always forget at least one shoe. Or two. Good one.
Best wishes
Ralf
I love this one. Esp the way shoes have been left out
This is very, very good. I love it. I'm really quite impressed.
nice one....how did you know Jimmy Hoffa was last seen wearing a yellow shirt? hmmmmm
I like the disappearing into concrete too
This is my first visit to your site to read your poem. Thank you for visiting my blog and leaving your comments, reminding me to visit you.
When my children left home and I became an empty nester, the thing I missed the most was all the empty shoes lined up at the door. There's only two pairs of shoes at the door now and as you say, "boxes of memories".
It's hard to fill that emptiness. Your poem is well written and concise. Thank you for sharing thoughts about my empty heart. (If only the grandkids would come back from vacation.....)
Gautami -
I feel sadness, and perhaps anger in this piece -- and loss... I was touched...
...rob
I like how the sounds flow through this, blending in and out, holding on and letting go.
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